White Flags
by Eternally Me
Summary: “I can prove it! I can prove Germany is my friend!” “Really?” Germany asked curiously, “You can prove that?” Italy nodded quickly. “I’ll do anything! Anything Germany asks me!” “Then…” he spoke dramatically, “You will fight me.” -GerIta
1. The Truth

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own anything whatsoever in Hetalia.**

_**White Flags**_

**Phase 1: The Truth**

"Italy!" Germany bellowed, "Get up on your feet!" It was just another start of the day for the Northern half of Italy and Germany. The weather was lovely and blue with a gentle breeze, but, this time…

"Veee~ Germany," Italy whined looking up at the German, "Do I have to?" The annoyed look on Germany's face told Italy enough that he had to get up and start running again. He knew he should've come up with an excuse earlier to miss training. Germany smacked his forehead just as Italy fell flat on his face just before he finished.

"How do you expect to be stronger if you keep failing like this?" Germany asked harshly, "You're at the same place you've stayed 40 years ago!"

Italy weakly picked himself up and stared at the German tiredly, but he wasn't completely terrified. No, he was used to this very well by now! It had been 40 years, yes and it didn't seem like he learned very much, but if he learned one thing, it was that Germany was getting even more irritable and impatient as time went on and if possibly a second-he was still… hetalia, hopeless Italy, whatever was similar to the title! He still loved pasta, gelato, pizza and siestas and didn't like to fight, but…he was more…bored.

"Can we have pasta now?" Germany sighed with a nod and Italy made a small smile, leading him back to his own house.

…

Their usual meal this time was in complete silence other than the noises of forks clashing against plates. Italy took a bite and took a peek at Germany, who was concentrating on eating his own dinner and looking down-_away _from Italy. It made him entirely uncomfortable, feeling that he wasn't going to start up any sort of conversation.

And that was when the German cleared his throat and Italy had all his attention set, ready to listen and anticipating for what he had been waiting for…

"You know, you really have to start improving." Now Italy took back his desire as his face fell. "You can't depend on me forever, you know."

Italy had started to think over the meaning of being "dependant". Sure, he was dependant for Germany's protection, but that was really it. But then again, wasn't he supposed to? After all they were friends-so it seemed.

"I know you dislike fighting more than training," Germany continued, "But I do know what's best for you." This made Italy feel somewhat like a child-not that he ever really grew up, but one being lectured by a parent.

"Veee~ Then why is best for me, Germany?"

"Because, you'll be able to defend yourself for once," he answered simply. Ah, yes. Now he remembered why they continued training after all these years even after they allied in World War 2. Didn't he _care_ about the little Italian? He remembered times when Germany would always rush to his rescue from the clutches of perhaps Britain, France, or whoever was hurting him.

"Ne, Germany." A pair of cerulean eyes was locked completely on his dark brown ones.

"What if…someday I can become strong?" he asked. This seemed to confuse the German, who replied, "Well, you'll no longer have to rely on my help for one."

"Then what's two?"

"You…wouldn't need me any longer." Italy's expression began to sadden.

"Third then?"

"You're on your own." The world seemed to have stopped spinning on its axis for a while.

"Fourth"-

"Italy," Germany said sternly, "You will no longer have to bother with me and you are able to"-

"No more Germany?!?"

"It is…for the best, Italy," Germany confessed, folding his hands together. Italy stood up from his chair, speechless and ready to protest.

"Why?!?" He felt his insides shatter and spread across the floor. Germany was the next to stand up from his seat.

"Italy, why would you want to keep someone around like me even after you do become stronger?"

"Because Germany is my friend!" Italy cried out, trying not to choke on his emerging sobs. Germany had sunk back down into his seat.

"A friend, eh?" he muttered in disbelief, which the Italian caught.

"I can prove it! I can prove Germany is my friend!"

"Really?" Germany asked curiously, "You can prove that?" Italy nodded quickly.

"I'll do anything! Anything Germany asks me!"

"Then…" he spoke dramatically, "You will fight me." Italy froze entirely. Even the tears stopped falling down for a while it seemed.

"Okay, I'll do it."

"Very well, then," Germany said, getting up from his chair to walk out of the house, "I'm now your enemy and just so you know-I won't go easy on you." After Germany shut the door behind him, Italy immediately dropped to the floor to continue his pitiful cries-only they were much louder and longer this time.

When Germany had left that afternoon, he felt somewhat guilty, but then put aside the feeling.

_'This is for his own good.'_

Prussia was the first person he saw when Germany entered inside the house.

"Well, little brother, what's eating at you?" he snickered. Germany ignored him and hung his coat on the rack, only to be evaluated more by his brother.

"You didn't break poor Italy's heart, did ya? The guy's pretty fragile."

"I don't want to talk about it." Prussia merely shrugged and followed his brother.

"What'd you do? Did you give him the same _'I'm a tough ass'_ bullshit you always plaster onto your face instead of really telling him that"-

"You don't know anything that you're talking about!" he shouted, causing Prussia to automatically roll his eyes.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, bro." But he knew he wouldn't. Prussia was sure he was most likely going to see a crashed Germany sprawled all over his office desk in the morning. At least this left him an opportunity to try out those new markers he bought on eBay…


	2. Making Preparations

_**White Flags**_

_**Chapter 2: Preparations**_

_"Ne, Germany." Germany looked up from his paper work he was currently writing. He was ready to lecture the uninvited Italian sitting on his brand new and nicely polished wooden desk (replacing the old one Italy had accidentally broken), but decided against it-knowing that he wouldn't listen anyway._

_"What is it now, Italy?"_

_"Veee~ I wanted to play with you," he pouted, drawing his face close to Germany's (which made him blush madly)._

_"I-I can't right now. I'm too busy as you can see!"_

_"Awww… But Germany's always way too busy!"_

_"Don't you have something to do, Italy?" asked Germany, "You obviously won't motivate yourself to train, so that's out of the question."_

_"But I want to spend time with you!" Italy insisted, "I can do all that later!" At last, Germany had given in, slamming down his pen._

_"Alright! What is it that you want me to do with you exactly? If it involves making pasta, singing, and/or flirting with girls, count me out."_

_"Veee~," Italy cocked his head to the side, "You never want to do anything fun! You don't even want to flirt with cute girls?"_

_"Italy, I'm a nation. I don't have time for that sort of commitment." _

_"This is why you need to have fun, Germany," Italy frowned, then added quietly, "Not even one girl?"_

_"No!" Germany hollered, then said more calmly, "How can nations have a relationship anyway? That doesn't make sense!" Now Germany felt guilty as soon as he noticed Italy's instant hurt expression._

_"Of course nations have relationships," he said as a matter of factly, "Romano and Spain are together, I've been hearing the same thing with England and America and even Japan has been hanging around with Greece lately and Russia and Lithuania"-_

_"First of all, Romano and Spain live together," Germany interrupted him, "Second; England raised America as a child. How can that be? Third, Japan is compatible with just about everyone and last of all, Russia forces Lithuania to stay with him!"_

_"Not from what I heard…" Italy muttered._

_"Have you ever even been in a relationship with another nation?" At that moment, Italy seemed to mellow down entirely. There was a strange notion of sadness dwelling within Italy's presence._

_"Well, yes…" This surprised Germany._

_"You see," he began, "His name was the Holy Roman Empire." The name rang a bell for some reason in Germany's head. Oh yeah. The tiny empire that collapsed so long ago that was rarely spoken of-why was that? "We fell in love many, many years ago and he went off to fight a war to expand-he never returned."_

_"Wow, Italy, I'm sorry to hear that," he apologized, feeling like a complete jerk._

_"No, it's fine," Italy smiled sadly, "I've gotten over him anyways!" It sure didn't seem like it._

_"How'd you get over a guy like him?"_

_"Well, France told me to, so I did." Italy had finally broken out of his gloomy moment and grabbed Germany's hand._

_"Come on! Let's go outside!"_

…

With a loud groan, Germany slowly lifted up his head and glanced at the cuckoo clock by his side: 11 A.M. Holy crap. Where had the day gone?

He dressed himself and quickly ran downstairs in a panic in search of his breakfast. He hated sleeping in like this. It always made him feel like he was late for something.

"It's about time you got up!" Prussia greeted him, "Breakfast's in the fridge."

By the time Germany had gotten settled, it was already about 1. His never ending schedule ran through his mind. He missed his waking up time, his shower, his breakfast and he still hadn't gotten all his work done and Italy hadn't called yet and- wait, Italy hadn't called? The thought startled Germany, but then he relaxed. Right. They declared war now.

Germany rested his head on the palm of his hand and sighed. What was Italy doing anyway? Did he remember either? He decided to disregard that and headed outside. It was about time he got the first battle over with.

_'Maybe… I should at least check up on him and see how he's doing.'_ He put on his coat and packed a few weapons inside-just in case.

As he walked towards the Italian's house, he was sure the sound of water running was in the air. Where was that coming from? He followed the sound only to see someone working in the backyard of the garden. The person was wearing a large, white bandana in their hair, what appeared to be a white smock, and a green dress.

_'I've never seen this girl before, yet this outfit looks strangely familiar… Could it be…'_ Germany ignored the haunting memory that suddenly came to his mind. He bent down on his knees to get a closer look at her. She had already caught him, turning her head to face his.

"Excuse me, miss, but I"-

"MIO DIO! DON'T HURT ME!" she screeched. She turned up the power of the hose in her hand and sprayed him down, all the while getting up on her knees. Germany fell backwards onto the ground.

"Stay away from me! I got nothing for you!" she cried. Germany stood himself up in awe, recognizing the voice. 'Italy?'

"Wait, Italy, I meant to"-

"HOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME?" Quickly, Germany made a run for it, only to be chased by the water and hose. Damn modern technology for giving it such long distance.

"Because it's me, Germany!" Italy shut off the hose right at that second, feeling embarrassed.

"Oh… I'm"- he stopped himself, unsure if he should continue the sentence. Germany shivered mildly for a moment. Feeling bad, Italy went inside and came back out with a towel, which he wrapped around Germany.

"You…shouldn't be nice to your enemies," Germany reminded him, then said, "But that was a good attack-even though you had mistaken me for someone else for I don't know what."

"But you had those weird marks all over your face. At least I cleaned them off for you!" Weird marks?

"Damn it, Prussia…" he spoke out loud, making a fist.

"What?" Germany's fist slowly un tightened. Prussia had just walked outside of the house.

"Brother, what're you doing here?"

"I'm staying with Italy, duh."

"Staying with Italy?" Germany repeated, "You mean you're moving in?"

"Yep!" Germany smacked his forehead.

"So you're allying with_ him_ instead of your own _brother_?"

"Hey, he's got better pasta! Speaking of which," he turned his head to Italy's, "Are we by chance having lunch anytime soon?"

"I'll make some now. I'm done with the gardening."

"Sounds great!" Prussia grinned, eyeing Italy as he went inside to make lunch. The grin slowly descended when he realized how pissed off his brother was.

"Look, he's going to need some help, you know."

"That's not a good reason."

"Then what is?"

"None! You shouldn't be helping him! This war is between him and myself. We're not planning to make this a world war. That's the last thing we need."

"It wouldn't be a world war," said Prussia, "After all, I'm not even a country anymore, remember?"

"But you still can't be involved! You don't understand what this is about!"

"Look, it's not like I'm fighting by his side or anything. I'm just here as backup, okay?" This seemed to be getting nowhere. One loud huff from Germany told Prussia that he had given in.

"Hey, I'll come visit you still, West," Prussia smiled.

"I'm not even sure if I want that now."

"Pasta's ready!" Italy chimed happily from the open window. That was quick and strangely just in time as well. Prussia rubbed his hands together and entered the house.

"Ne, Germany, don't you want pasta too?" Italy offered him. Germany's stomach grumbled. He was so concentrated on getting breakfast over with that he forgot about lunch, but…

"No, I'm full, thank you." He turned around to head for home and Italy, for once, didn't beg him over and over again to stay.

Italy turned around and sat at the table, but ate his pasta at a slower pace than usual. This was usually the time that he and Germany would sit together and eat…

"Don't worry about West," Prussia said, noticing the sudden melancholy atmosphere, "He's just having his monthly." Italy ignored the last part of the remark and stared at his meal. He suddenly didn't feel like eating, so he got up from the table and laid down on the couch.

"Wait, where are you going?" asked Prussia as he helped himself to more pasta, "Aren't you gonna finish that?"

"I'm taking an early siesta." He couldn't even sleep.


	3. Behind Every Story

**White Flags**

**Chapter 3: Behind Every Story**

_His only memory was waking up with a clear blue sky above his head and to his side, an albino with blood colored eyes that held out his hand. _

_"Who are you? What happened?" were the first questions he asked. The other man was surprised._

_"So, you don't remember at all?" The boy shamefully shook his head._

_"I'm Prussia. It seems you've had a case of amnesia. Well, no matter!" Prussia dragged him onto his feet, "Think of a name for yourself! Start over!"_

_"But… how do I prevent myself from losing my memories again?"_

_"Simple," said Prussia, "Just don't mess up again. Become stronger and you live longer." _

"_I shall be dubbed Germany," he smiled. And with that, he took the only good advice Prussia gave him to his heart._

…

"You mean to tell me you never used a gun before?" asked Prussia. Italy shook his head quickly.

"I can see why West never did, considering you would probably hurt yourself," Prussia sighed.

"Veee~well, he did try to teach me to use a grenade once, but I put it in my mouth and he was flipping out on me…" Prussia decided not to comment. He took the pistol next to him and reloaded it.

"Obviously, you can't use a gun if there's no bullet. Otherwise, it won't do anything. This is how it's done." He grabbed Italy's hand and placed it on the holder of the gun and then his index finger on the trigger.

"All you have to do is press on it and shoot! Just be careful where you aim. Try going for that target over there. You want to aim for the middle." And Italy fired, but it hit the tree.

"Did I win?"

"No, try again. Remember, aim for the middle. Concentrate!" And he did several more times until he realized it wasn't getting anywhere near the middle, so he bullet after bullet after bullet, he ended up unsuccessful. All were used up. Prussia smacked his forehead.

"It seems to me like we need more work."

…

**To Germany:**

**Hello, this is Italy. I had a nightmare recently. In the dream, you completely forgot about me. Now, I'm worried that if you become friends with Russia, you'll really forget about me. Friends forever, okay? Oh yeah, and your sausages taste like shit.**

**From, Italy Venenciano**

_Germany had placed the letter on the corner of his desk after he read it and placed one hand over his face. That letter was… He wasn't sure how to describe it. (Although the last sentence was surely offending) How was he supposed to forget about Italy? Italy was stupid, naive, had betrayed him several times during warfare, was lazy, was persistent and annoying, but… he was also strangely creative. He had seen Italy paint on the easel several times and create amazing portraits. Not to mention he wanted to be around Germany constantly and considered them as friends. _

_Of course they knew they had very little in common. In fact, they were complete opposites. Germany was the hard worker striving for great power when all Italy wanted was to have fun and relax. Only around Italy did he ever get chances to do either. Maybe that was what attracted him so much to the weaker nation…_

_ "Become stronger and live longer…" Germany had wasted much of his time on Italy. He was sure he was becoming weaker and held down more as a result, but he did want to protect him. He wanted to make sure his friend wouldn't get hurt! At least if he trained Italy, he might be able to care for himself and Germany could concentrate on other things…_

_No, that was too selfish of a thought. He couldn't just leave Italy after all this time. It wouldn't be right for him. Friends forever._

…

"Okay," Prussia began, "It took you only a half hour to get your bullet inside the actual target. It took you another hour to get it in the middle. I suppose this is improvement." Italy pointed the gun towards Prussia and put a bullet through his hat, making it fall off.

"So, when's my next lesson?"

"…Tomorrow… I have a headache…"

…

It was quiet at Germany's. There only sounds in the house were the ticking from his cuckoo clocks, the pen he was using to write and the shuffling of his feet. The stereo wasn't blasted nor some kind of video game on the T.V. It was nice to finally have peace for once. He actually got all his work done and it was… 21,30. Not bad.

He went upstairs and tucked himself in to prepare himself for another day. And shut his eyes.

_'I wonder… how Italy is doing. I hope Prussia isn't doing anything vulgar to him.'_ He cringed at the thought of seeing Prussia grinning wildly at the door way and shouting, "All it took was 5 meters" in his pride. Germany turned over in his sleep and tugged at the pillow that rested below his head.

_'Remember, this is for the best… He'll lose, so I can prove to him that he's wrong. We can't be friends-possibly allies, but at that at most. Or maybe…'_ Germany thought, _'Maybe he'll be more dependent on me than ever. He'll come back to me and realize that he really does need my help to become stronger and'_- Germany stopped his thoughts and forced his eyes shut. He decided it was best to think about it later.

…

Italy was finally able to sleep well that night. He drifted off into a deep , comfortable slumber…

"It's Germany and Japan! Look! Look!" Italy raised a pink looking flower above his head, "I found this really cool flower!"Complete silence. "What are you two talking about?" Neither nation responded, so he listened in closer to their conversation.

"Let's proceed the next mission without Italy."

"Good call. We wouldn't want him betraying us again." A crack pounded in Italy's ears. He was pretty sure that sounded like his spirit.

"Let them say what they want!" Romano joined in with Italy, "War is all about winning, even if you have to sell out your allies." Italy frowned.

"What're you talking about, brother? They're my friends." Regardless, he crept over to Germany.

"G-Germany, I'm weak, but I'll do my best. So don't forget me, okay?" And he walked away.

Italy woke up with a scream that was more terrifying than the first time he had the dream and jumped out his bed and took off in lightening speed.

"G-GERMANY!!!" He slammed open a random door and threw himself onto the occupier of a bed, all the while crying hysterically.

"Don't forget me! Don't forget me!"

"How can I not? You just pounded me!" Italy stopped whimpering momentarily when he noticed it wasn't Germany's voice this time. "Now get off me! You're heavy! Stop crying!" This only made Italy whimper even louder.

"You're not Germany! Where is he?"

"At his house! Get off of me already!" Reluctantly, Italy rolled off onto his side.

"I had a nightmare, Prussia…" Prussia sat up half way and looked at the Italian tiredly.

"It wasn't real, Italy. Now please go back to bed."

"B-But what if it comes true?"

"Then don't let it happen. Jesus, Italy. Don't worry so much." Italy wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and sniffled.

"Okay, then I won't…" He smiled sadly at Prussia. "Thank you, Prussia."

"Don't thank me, I'm just awesome like that," he grinned, "Next time you have a nightmare, next time, don't jump on top of me, got it?"

"Sì, Sì!" He left the room quietly and this time slept easier than before.

…

Germany looked at himself in the mirror in the morning. Dark circles appeared to have developed under his head. He washed his face thoroughly, feeling like he was ready to pass out any moment. He hated the feeling of going through a night without sleep.

'Maybe… if I at least see how he's doing, I'll feel better.' He left the house after eating breakfast and walked the familiar path to Italy's house and hid behind one of the trees.

"Good, it seems like you can handle the rifle now. You're not directly hitting the target in the middle, but you're at least getting it inside. Your aim is getting better," he heard Prussia say.

"Veee~ Really? I am?"

"Yeah! We still gotta try the submachine guns, shotguns, but first, I need to teach you how to use that grenade properly."

"Okay!"

Oh… so he was fine after all. As he overheard, he's actually _using_ weapons correctly? He couldn't believe it.

He watched Prussia un clip a grenade and throw it at a tree next to him and let it explode.

"And that's how it's done! You just need the right aim and distance. This time, you're actually throwing it, so it might be harder. When you master this, you'll be able to fight!" Germany quickly scurried away, realizing how dangerous it was to be in the forest, and ran back home, but he couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe Italy might actually go head to head with him.

…

"But I don't like fighting," Italy complained.

"This is war, Italy. You have to." Prussia handed Italy a grenade, which he successfully unclipped and bombed another several trees.

"Is this the only way to win?"

"Yes," Prussia nodded, "Especially to have your way with Germany." Italy stared at the next grenade that was handed to him. It went against everything that he thought about war. All it did was bring hardship and hurt to others including himself, but if tragedy was the only way he could prove his worth to Germany… perhaps it really was worth the try.

**A/N: Sorry for the late update! School and all that crap is going on… Hopefully, I'll get the next update done soon!**


	4. Will

White Flags

Phase 4: Will

_"Hey, bruder." Prussia looked at his younger brother with a proud smile on his face. He enjoyed being called that all too much…_

_ "What do you want now, West?"_

_ "I've been wondering…"_

_ "Oh, it's this question already?" he asked ecstatically, standing up, "I can answer it!" Germany looked at him surprised._

_ "You already know?"_

_ "Well sure I do," said Prussia, "See, down there is your 'wrapped present'-unless you already decided to unwrap it-of course not as awesome as mine-that will be great for your future"-_

_ "What are you talking about? That's not it!" Prussia pressed his mouth into a fine line, embarrassed, and sunk back down into his seat._

_ "Then what is it?"_

_ "Have you ever felt like you were someone else in another lifetime?"_

_ "Someone else?" asked Prussia, "West, we're countries-although if I could choose, I'd be next to Old Fritz…"_

_ "What I mean is another country. I feel like I used to be another country. It would make sense too since I don't even remember anything past when you saved me," Germany replied. Prussia rubbed his chin and sank down further into his chair._

_ "Uh… Yeah… you were." Germany seemed completely absorbed into that statement, but Prussia quickly added, "But it's not important. Your economy and people and boss right now are what you should worry about."_

_ And Germany followed the advice once again._

…

"Alright, Italy; it's time for your next lesson." In the last two weeks, Italy's training had gone further than any other nation could imagine-including a concerned Germany that was still secretly watching from the sidelines.

"Veee~ What are we doing today?"

"In the past couple of weeks, you've gone through a remarkable change, but can your soldiers do the same?" Italy tapped his chin and quickly ran away, only to come back with a very large army of men behind him.

"Wow, that was fast," Prussia commented, "How'd you get them all here so quickly?"

"With pasta, of course~."

…

Germany had decided on his own to prepare his army while at the same time taking care of his shape. It seemed like the first battle wasn't too far away as the army seemed to take care of itself.

_'At least that's something I know Italy can't do,' Germany thought, 'He can't stay on auto-pilot mode.'_ After taking the time to circle his soldiers, Germany thanked them for their work and proceeded to his office.

Why did it have to feel so awkward? Germany opened a drawer, only to find a sealed letter. From Italy. He immediately closed it shut.

"I guess I'll never understand his motives," he sighed to himself.

…

Germany decided a week later that it was time. The skies looked awfully gray, but Germany didn't seem to mind. He was sure there wouldn't be much of a fight if it rained…

Unless Prussia taught him to tolerate it…

No matter. Germany sent the signal for his troops to circle Italy's home. Then, a gunshot and a cry in the air. It was so sudden that even Germany jumped in surprise. More cries began to echo in the skies of people and iron. Nervous beads of sweat began to trickle down the side of Germany's face.

'N-No way… he was prepared for the attack?' Germany got a closer look. His assumption was right. Left and right, men and bloodshed were running about the field. Screams of pain rang in Germany's ears that he hadn't heard for a long time. He had almost forgotten what war looked like.

One soldier fell, another two with it and so on like a stack of dominoes. Germany sped through the battle field with a grenade in his hand, throwing it to the other side quickly as he rushed a group of his healthy soldiers to the nearest tanks.

"What are you waiting for? GET GOING!" They obeyed right away, all the while avoiding the firing shots. Everyone else stayed flat on their backs injured or on their stomachs, crawling and firing. Germany accidentally stepped on a clothed body and pulled his foot away.

"Sorry," he apologized automatically, not even knowing that the body had already died. He took a peek at the Italian soldiers. They had taken a great blow as well.

Yet , every one of their faces seemed determined as well to fight-pride Germany had never seen before in the other nation.

Rain began to pour down. All it did was wash away the blood. What appeared to be a rock flew just past Germany's head. Germany looked next to him. Was something ticking? Or was that a burning sound?

_'Oh God.'_

Germany sprinted the other way-but it was too late. The explosion sent him flying (and from behind he was burning) into the darkness.

"Vee~" he heard a man mumble, "Germany, is something wrong? You've been sleeping for an awfully long time." Germany opened his eyes.

_'Where am I?'_ The light was clear and white like a…

Germany sat up and quickly looked around, only to fall back against his pillow and groan loudly. His head hurt. There was a machine next to him beeping quickly and loudly.

"Don't do that! You'll hurt yourself!" A familiar auburned hair Italian stared at him with concern.

"I-Italy…" Germany wheezed, "You're alright and I'm impressed! There's not one scratch on you! I had to admit it, but you did something right. Whatever it was, you won."

"Won? What did I win?" asked Italy, then his eyes brightening, "Is it pasta-or perhaps a pizza or a gelato?" The beeping got a little bit faster.

"Y-You don't remember anything? The battle?"

"Battle? What battle?" asked Italy. Germany rubbed the side of his head. He didn't recall it? Italy smiled at his confused expression. "Silly, Germany! You must've had a bad nightmare~."

"Yeah, I guess so…" Germany sighed. Then there came a thought. If it was a dream, that meant he and Italy never fought in the first place. Germany grinned. "Yeah! It was a bad dream!" Italy let out a small cry.

"Germany's smiling? He really fell hard on his head!" The grin descending into a frown.

"I fell down?" Italy laughed nervously and then broke into a sob.

"I promise I'll be more careful next time during training! I'll look where I'm going and not fake anymore stomach aches to miss practice!"

"You were faking the pain- Never mind, that's not important as of now," Germany said, "I'm just glad everything's okay now…"

"Me too~," Italy mused, embracing Germany into a tight hug. Usually, Germany would order Italy to get off, but this time let him hug him as long as he wanted.

"How long was I out, Italy?"

"A few weeks. I didn't leave your side once-well, except to go to the vending machines… I was really hungry and thirsty-but yeah, I stayed here almost the whole time!"

"But why?" Germany questioned, "Why would you do that for me?"

"Because you're Germany and Germany is my friend." Germany balled the sheets on the bed in his hands.

"Italy, I believe I'm the one that owes you an apology… I haven't been a good friend to you, and I'm sorry for that." Italy opened his mouth to say something, but Germany quickly silenced him, "Prussia's right. I don't say my feelings… and I didn't want to because there was something I did and I'm ashamed of doing that to you. Italy, the truth is, I'm the-What's that?"

"What's what?" the Italian asked innocently. Germany pointed to Italy's cheek.

"Your face…it's got a gash mark…"

"Oh that! Don't worry about it!" Italy chirped, rubbing the side of his face. Germany tilted his head to the side. He knew that gash wasn't there before. Wasn't he just scratch less? And it seemed like it was opening wider and wider until another few marks made their appearance his face and hands.

"Wha-what's happening to you?" Germany yelled.

"I don't know! I'm sorry!" Italy sobbed. Blood poured from the open pours and Italy screamed. "It hurts! It hurts! Help me, Germany!"

The beeping raced faster than before as Germany began to panic, scanning the room.

"Where are the doctors? Nurse? Paramedics?"

"Yes?" Germany turned his head to see a white haired figure standing at the door way dressed in medical uniform.

"Bruder, what are you doing here? This is serious!"

"Of course it is. Do you even know what's wrong with him?" asked Prussia.

"H-He's bleeding and crying and"-

"But do you know why?" Germany shook his head.

"I always knew you were hard headed," Prussia smirked, "Not even realizing what you did to the poor nation here."

"I did this?" Germany gasped. His body started to shiver uncontrollably. "Then that means that the reason why he looks like this is because…"

"It's what he felt on the inside," Prussia finished for him, "Good work. Now you realize the situation. I know the remedy, but you're the only one that has it."

"And how can I fix him? How do I make things better?"

"Tell Italy the truth. Tell Italy how you really feel…" The machine stopped on one, long beat…

And then Germany saw another bright light flash above him. His entire body hurt.

"Whoa, boss!" he heard someone exclaim, "You're alright!" That didn't sound like Italy… Germany raised his head. Oh. It was his General.

"What happened?" he asked weakly.

"You were hit by a grenade and the impact really injured you," the General reported, "But don't worry, sir! We still won the battle!"

"We won? What about Italy? What's going on?"

"That's what I wanted to discuss with you," said the General, "The Italians put up quite a fight-really what I didn't expect from them. In fact, they're currently training right now and are plotting their attacks. Italy is quickly getting back to good health."

Germany nodded, but felt his insides tense. What he saw before only had been a nightmare in a nightmare.

**A/N:**** I'm so sorry this took so long to update! A month ago, I had my computer taken away for a few weeks and then I still had to update on another fic of mine! And this one took a little while longer because I had a tiny, menacing block, but I really like this chapter. So sorry about the wait once again, I'll try to be quicker!**


	5. Red

**Note: ****I'm clueless when it comes to creating the feeling of war and the planning and all that shizzle, so just bear with me. Also, everything between ~ and ~ is another way of me implicating starting and finishing of flashbacks. Oh, and most importantly…**

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own "White Flag" by Dido. **

**White Flags**

**Phase 5: Red**

"What do you do with people you like?"

_Germany never knew. He wasn't sure what to do, but there he was. It was an awkward moment, but something inside him begged to say something…_

"Y-You kiss them…"

_Would he act now or wait once again? They were eating dinner in silence. Should he begin by reminding Italy to wipe his mouth and swipe off the bit of sauce with his thumb and eat it? No, that would just make things even more awkward…_

"I'm so happy!"

_Would he be? Could Italy even understand? What if he told Italy that he was the one who unintentionally broke his heart? Would he still be happy?_

_ "You know, you really need to start improving. You can't depend on me forever, you know." Germany stopped talking. This seemed to catch Italy's attention. "I know you dislike fighting more than training, but I do know what's best for you." There! Now he could turn the conversation to a different path. He needed Italy to know the first part of his feelings, right? Wasn't this best for him?_

_ "Veee~ Then why is it best for me, Germany?" his comrade asked childishly._

_ 'That's right, Germany…just say it already! Out with it already!'_

_ "Because you'll be able to defend yourself for once." _'Yes…yes… getting closer now!'

_ "__What if…someday I can become strong?" The German wasn't expected a question like this._

_ "Well, you'll no longer need my help, for one."_

"_Then what's two?"_

"_You…wouldn't need me any longer." _'Oh no… now you've done it! You're going to make him cry, Germany!'

"_Third then?"_

"_You're on your own." _'No… this is not what I wanted! The conversation wasn't supposed to go this way!'

"_Fourth"-_

"_Italy, you will no longer have to bother with me and you are able to"-_

"_No more Germany?!?"_

"_It is…for the best, Italy." _'I can't do it anymore… I failed… Then again, maybe it's best I will never tell him the truth.'

…

Italy was pacing nervously as he watched his soldiers fall one by one and shook his head.

"This isn't good enough…" He threw a grenade himself over to the side where the Germans were and watched as it exploded, sending a German flying. His cap flew off, revealing short blonde hair. He fell quickly due to his height and weight, but Italy couldn't help but feel something familiar about that person, but he quickly shrugged it off once he noticed something sizzling by his side. "Mio Dios…"---

---"Hey Italy, wake up." Italy slowly awoken to see Prussia sitting next to him on the white bed. "Well, good morning to you. Looks you didn't take much of a hard blow." With a groan, Italy sat up straight and rubbed the side of his head.

"Prussia, what happened? Did we win?"

"Yeah…no," Prussia frowned, "But you still put up a pretty good fight. Germany's recovering too and-hey, where are you going? You're still resting!" Italy opened the door and took a last look at Prussia.

"I'm going to see my soldiers… This is not enough. We have to grow stronger." He rushed down the hallway before Prussia could stop him, who crossed his arms and pouted.

"He at least could've put on some pants…"

…

"So, we're all set," Germany heard one of his generals say, "If worse comes to worse, we'll simply move onto invading Rome."

"Rome?" Germany repeated, "South Italy? Would we have to involve him?"

"I don't see why not," said the general, "The North might be asking the South for support. He can't have that support if South Italy is too damaged, right?"

"I suppose..." Germany sighed. The generals before him stared.

"Is something wrong?" asked another.

"No, but…"

"-Just think of this," he interrupted, "Both Italies make one country. It's not like you're making this a three-way war that way. Besides, since the North and South are separate, it further shows weakness in the country itself-which we can further expose if we attack Rome."

"Then I guess there's no helping it," Germany finally gave in, "But remember, this is our last resort. We'll march through Switzerland tomorrow and then the region of Piemonte first. You're all dismissed." Germany remained behind and glanced at the map before him.

_'His surprise attack was decently done… He put up a fight…' _He rolled the map and carried it with him out of the room. _'I have a bad feeling about this.'_

…

"You're asking me to do what?" Italy got down on his knees and folded his hands together.

"Oh please, il mio fratello! Per favore! Per favore! Per favo"-

"No."

"Ve! Why not?"

"Because," Romano hissed, "He's _your_ potato bastard-not mine!"

"But I need you! Please, brother! I need to beat Germany!" Romano rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"For the last time-no! This is not my war."

"Yeah… I know… but…"

"But what? Listen up, Germany has been training your scrawny ass for years and years and you haven't changed a bit. I don't know what this is all about… but you have to show him true Italian spirit-and I don't mean raising a white flag. You have to assert yourself to prove your point-on your own!" Italy was ready to say something, but then stopped himself and said something else.

"Okay… I get it now." He left his brother's house wordlessly with a map of Germany in his hands. His soldiers should have been finishing up their training momentarily for the day-with many vagarious training sessions . They would be making their preparations. Weapons and forms of travelling were being manufactured quickly. Thanks to Prussia, this has all been made possible-

_'Prussia.'_ Italy slumped. Of course… without Prussia, he would have probably given up the moment someone on the opposing team pulled out a rifle. He would have lost the war within the first battle. _'I'm still too dependent on others…'_ He continued walking.

_'Was I that much of a burden to Germany? Is this why Germany wanted to fight me off-so I don't bother him anymore?'_ Something was vibrating in his pocket, but he ignored it. _'Then…maybe Germany doesn't want to be my friend. He thinks I'm so weak that it's guaranteed he'll win and then I won't have to see him anymore… is that what he wants?' _The vibrating grew angrier and at the same time lowered in volume and agitation to the unaware Italy. _'I'll show him a thing or too… I can be stronger! I will no longer be a burden! I'll be…useful!' _Italy finally had enough of the vibration and picked up his cell phone.

"Finally, you answer! You have to get to Piemonte right away! We're under attack!"

…

"But the troops! I have to be there for them!"

"There's no time for that! We can't risk you being injured again! We must move the others at once!"

There was rarely any time when Germany allowed anyone to lead him other than his ruler, but this was a special occasion. He was directed away from the battlefield before he could set foot onto it and he was able to make pictures in his mind of what the battle was looking like-and it was far worse than last time. It was terrible!

"The battle! We're going to lose!" Germany yelled as he paced over to the helicopter with his general.

"Of course we are! That's the point! I used only a majority of our army to fight. We're using the others to march down past Liguria and Toscana. If the fighting doesn't settle, we'll move on to our last option. The remaining soldiers here will be transported as well."

BOOM.

Germany didn't have time to look back before his general began running.

"Don't just stand there!" he yelled, "Run! You're not getting a scratch on your face before we make our way to Rome. Run!" And like a once obedient little brother to Prussia, he ran.

…

_'Man, Italy has been so busy he's had no time to clean up this place.' _Prussia shook his head, finally noticing the spider webs and dust that were setting a film the furniture in his house, practically preserving it like plastic He turned on his gaming system and covered himself with a blanket. _'He hasn't even fixed the garden and we're out of food, but that's none of my concern of course. I'm too awesome to care about this sort of thing.' _

The front door opened and Prussia paused his game. Making his way inside was a very breathless and weary Italy.

"You look like you need to sit." Italy slowly reached the couch and nearly passed out just several inches away. Prussia resumed playing.

"Veee~… war is tough, Prussia," he whined.

"Nobody said it was easy, kiddo. At least you didn't get hit with another grenade." Italy rolled over onto his back and stared at the clock. It was 3 PM and no matter how tired he was, he couldn't close his eyes. In fact, now that he thought about it, he had been skipping his siestas enough to the point that strangely enough… he was used to it. He was used to not getting the nap he needed at this time. Besides, what if he was going to get called back to battle the moment he fell into nice, deep sleep?

"We still have more battles to come."

"I'm pretty sure, knowing Germany. In war, he'll always be looking for an opportunity to haul ass, even when he wins every battle"-

"But he didn't," Italy interrupted him. Prussia paused the game again and stared at him.

"Y-You won?" Italy nodded slowly. "Wow! I'm very impressed, Italy. Of course, don't forget that you need to plan your next move and-Italy?" He heard light snoring coming from the nation and took off the blanket he was wrapped in and tucked him in.

…

_**I know you think that I shouldn't still love you,  
Or tell you that.**_

Germany played with his cross nervously-a sensation he hadn't felt in such a long time even when Italy was stupidly wreaking havoc in some way. The helicopter landed. When Germany reached for the map of Italy to have a quick glance at it, the soldiers marched forth, stepping and crumbling the paper they were unaware of that sat beneath their feet and eventually tore it apart. His general was leaving him in the helicopter, leaving him with no choice but to linger on the past with a ruined map.

_**But if I didn't say it, well I'd still have felt it  
where's the sense in that?**_

Italy was at Liguria by dawn. He could barely see a thing except fire and dark shadows of things that looked like trees. And mud. He was stepping cold and gooey mud and dirt. Regardless, he screamed with his soldiers as they fired against the opposing team. Germany didn't know what was going to hit him.

_**I promise I'm not trying to make your life harder  
Or return to where we were**_

_~"Don't you have something to do, Italy?" asked Germany, "You obviously won't motivate yourself to train, so that's out of the question."_

_ "But I want to spend time with you!" Italy insisted, "I can do all that later!"~_

_~He couldn't just leave Italy after all this time. It wouldn't be right for him. Friends forever.~_

_~"You know, you really have to start improving. You can't depend on me forever, you know."~_

_ ~"And how can I fix him? How do I make things better?"_

_ "Tell Italy the truth. Tell Italy how you really feel…"~ _

~_"But… how do I prevent myself from losing my memories again?"_

_ "Simple," said Prussia, "Just don't mess up again. Become stronger and you live longer." _

I will go down with this ship  
And I won't put my hands up and surrender  
There will be no white flag above my door

A general had pulled Italy away from the war, ignoring his protests, ignoring his worries about the battle until they were safe inside the helicopter.

"You can't stay here. We're going to Rome, so you might want to talk with your brother."

"Rome? But how…" He leaned towards Italy and whispered.

"Let's just say a friend of mine and I had a little talk and convinced the Germans to go south. I've already prepared many of our troops to be stationed in Rome, but it means sacrificing this battle and probably the next if we end up fighting again in Toscana, but that's alright. We'll still be able to overpower the Germans. If we can convince South Italy to fight with us, we'll be completely unstoppable!"

"No."

"No what."

There was a long pause before Italy replied again.

"… You said it yourself, didn't you? We'll still be able to overpower the Germans. We don't need South Italy." The general shrugged.

"Whatever you say, boss." Italy nodded and looked outside the helicopter as they began to fly away from the battle field.

_'I'm not going to give up.'_

**A/N:**** I FEEL SO HORRIBLE. I made you guys wait months for the update DX I was on such a block that I stayed on the same paragraph for a month, but I finally was able to move forward! Because of the long wait, I decided that instead of working on my next three fics simultaneously, I'm just going to update "White Flags" again. I think it's only fair. **


	6. Blue

**White Flags**

**Phase 6: Blue**

**I'm in love and always will be**

…

_France shook his head at the pitiful sight that was the sulking Italy. The poor lad had seemed so depressed lately. Austria couldn't provide the answer. Hungary couldn't provide the answer. He decided a heart to heart chat would be best. _

_ "I'm warning you, Francis," Hungary hissed at him, "If you're just here to claim Austria's"-_

_ "Non! Non! Of course not!" France laughed, "I just wanted to see how my darling little brother was doing!" 'But now that it's been brought to my attention, I'll keep that in mind for later…' A young looking Italy made his way across the hall and France picked him up from underneath his arms and walked into the next room._

_ "And I better not see any perverted behavior with Italy!" she called from the other room. France shut the door behind him and gave Italy a cheerful smile. _

_ "Bonjour, Italy!"_

_ "Hello, Big Brother France…"_

_ "That sounds very unenthusiastic, Italy! What seems to be the matter?" He found a chair and sat Italy on his lap. Something bare was brushing against his legs. "…And are you wearing your panties?" France didn't understand why he was always dressed up this way in the first place._

_ "W-Well… w-well…" Italy broke out into a sob and wiped his eyes and sniffled. "I don't have any!" France made a sour face as his younger brother hiccupped and failed to catch his breath._

'Oh mon dieu… Just what exactly have they done to him?'_ "Ahaha…well…" France laughed nervously, "Can't you just buy a new pair?" Italy shook his head._

_ "They would only remind me of… of him!" Italy barely got out the last word, but France heard it plenty well enough._

_ "HIM?" he shrieked. Oh no. Oh HELL no. Was his little Italy violated without him knowing it? "Did he touch you? Who was it, mi amor? I'll dispose of his filthy head and tear out both his eyes so he'll never look at another gorgeous"-_

_ "What are you talking about, Big Brother?" Italy squeaked, "All he did was k-kiss… And now he's gone! The Holy Roman Empire is gone!" So it wasn't how France was currently imagining the situation, but at least he got a name and an idea of what happened._

_ "Oh, Italy! Don't be so stupid! You can't just mourn over him forever! You have to move on."_

_ "B-But, he promised he was going to come back for me!"_

_ "Any person will say that just to get in your pants!"_

_ "Veee~ He already got my pantyhose…" France flinched._

_ "Well, whatever, but you get my point, don't you? You can't be happy if you don't move on."_

_ "I guess so…"_

_ The advice didn't take effect until nearly a century later. Even when the news reached to him that the war was over, The Holy Roman Empire never came back. _

…

"You aren't just fucking with me, right?" Italy nodded very quickly and sat himself at the table across from his brother, who was looking at him very suspiciously.

"Someone spied for me, so I know for sure."

"And how do you know they're not just screwing _you_ over?" asked Romano. Italy folded his hands together, obviously stumped by the question.

"Vee~ I guess I don't…"

"Damn right," Romano spat, "You can't just_ trust_ the opposing team, you know."

"But at least fend for yourself just in case, brother," said Italy, "You're right, I don't know whether they're lying to me or not, but"-

"Italy, I don't have time to worry about the potato bastard. If I waste all my time and energy putting effort into something that is far from **not** my problem, then I'm gonna fuck up my plans-and that's the last thing I want to do right now."

"But"-

"No buts! Now get out!"

"B-But…"

"What did I just say?" Italy sighed and headed for the door.

"Ve. Don't say I didn't warn you, then." Before he twisted the knob, he took one last look at his brother. "And just so you know, I didn't ask you to fight with me. I was just worried that you would be under attack. For once, I got this under control-on my own!" He slammed the door behind him and Romano crossed his arms.

"That stupid potato bastard… Why does he care so much about him? What's he gotten himself-us- into?"

…

"That was…unexpected," Germany heard one of his soldiers say, "This time we defeated the Italians." Germany opened his eyes and rubbed them. Barely any light from outside shone inside the helicopter, but it was enough to know morning had arrived.

He stood up and yawned, stretching his arms as his vision finally focused. His group of generals was circled right next to him.

"Guten morgen." The voices sounded far less than cheerful.

"...Did I hear correctly? We won?"

"Yes," said another, "That is the battle. We've landed back in Germany. We need to take care of a few things before we can move forward to Toscana where our troops are heading right now."

"We won?"

"Victory is just a short stop away at this point. The Italians were ordered to retreat just hours ago…"

"I'm not sure if I like this," spoke up a general, "It was easier than taking France. I expected them to put up some sort of fight like last time…"

"They're Italians, General! What do you expect?" The group started chattering and bickering until the same general hollered over them. "They've always been this way, you know. Italians weren't made for fighting. It's their weakness. They only won that one battle because we withdrew to proceed with our plans."

"But… their persistence! That's very out of character for them! What if…" he lowered his voice to a more hushed tone, "They are copying our moves?"

"The more soldiers we get rid of, the better. That's what I have to say." The circle dismantled and the generals went their separate ways. A couple took the pilot seats and the rest scattered about the walls of the helicopter. A general sitting next to Germany picked up his walkie talkie.

"Did you get what I asked? … Great, all is going according to plan." He placed it back in his pocket and crossed his arms.

"What do we need to take care of again?" Germany asked. The general looked at him, flashed a smile and answered, "There's nothing to worry about, boss. We got it under control." The helicopter lifted again just a little later on.

…

Prussia hadn't seen the other nation in days. It was actually really starting to worry him. For once, he decided to take care of himself and the house. He cooked and cleaned and maintained Italy's garden. He was eager for Italy's return. He couldn't just live on wurst forever!

When Italy finally returned home, he stood right at the door with open arms, ready to cradle the Italian with affection, but even when he did, Italy was…unmoved. There was no response or any gesture. He just stood there…lifeless.

"Italy?"

"I'm only here for a short time. Before Prussia could ask any questions, Italy left just as fast as he had arrived inside.

…

"How much longer until we land?" asked Germany. A pilot checked the map.

"Right now we're just about over the border of Toscana. We should be landing soon, chief." Germany stared back out of the window.

From the aerial view, Italy looked gorgeous. Green hills graced the healthy looking land and the Sun upon the country was beautiful and bright-even where it appeared industrial. Sure, he had been to Rome before, but this was a far more intriguing sight-a happier one.

Yet… it still made him feel sick inside. What did the result of the battle look like back in Liguria? Piemonte?

He shook his head. There was no time to worry about this. The goal was to get this over with as quickly as possible.

…And then what?

"Alright, people," said one of the generals, "We're landing on the new battle ground. Before we fight, I need to speak to our chief first." He led Germany to the end of the helicopter, flicking his hand away to signal the sign of a private discussion and turned back to Germany.

"Remember I ordered some supplies?"

"Yes. I remember," Germany said.

"Well, that's because I figured we might need them…" he then whispered, "Just in case." Germany stared at his general, studying ever feature of his serious expression and then stiffened.

"You don't mean…"

"Don't worry," he whispered even lower, "I won't do it unless you give me permission. What do you say?" Germany immediately shook his head.

"No way! What good would that do?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure that the Italians have not created their own-therefore unleashing them first"-

"Absolutely not!"

"It would end things in a snap"-

"General Brock," Germany huffed, "Do you want to be fired?"

"No, chief. I was just making a suggestion." He began to journey back to his seat and quickly looked at Germany. "You might want to consider the offer soon. You'll never know."

…

Italy had raced through the field with his generals in command. They all cocked their guns as did Italy. They were in full military uniform-looking as serious than ever as their bodies burned underneath the heat of the Sun.

The sound of a gunshot indicated that they had drawn near. Italy gestured with his hand for his generals to move forward.

"**Andiamo**! Andiamo!" They immediately obeyed his command and made a run for the battlefield, shooting along side with their soldiers that persisted to shoot down their opponents on the other side, only to end up falling to the ground. Italy grunted something inaudible as he watched them fall one by one.

"**CHE FACETE**?" Italy yelled at his soldiers, "**Volete morire**?" The ones remaining by his side shook their head.

"No! No! **Faremmo migliore**!" one of them cried. Italy nodded to them, satisfied enough by their words and kept firing until he noticed his crowd begin to pack in together. The Germans were retreating! He smiled to himself, feeling victorious.

"W-We won another battle!" he cried, "We won!" He knew it wasn't part of their agenda, but something about achieving a victory just felt so…invigorating!

One of the generals grasped Italy's arm and whispered something to him before leading him to the helicopter. Whatever it was, the words had been enough to make the Italian look sickly white.

…

"I'm assuming what just happened there was ALL part of your plan?" Germany asked the generals.

"Well, retreating was part of it," said one of them, "We were actually taking out the same number of soldiers that they had with ours-it was best to preserve the soldiers in this type of situation, don't you agree?" Germany sighed- a sign of surrender.

"Yes, I understand now. You are all dismissed." All but one general had left the meeting room. He instead neared towards Germany's side with papers in his hands that he handed to him.

"I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but obviously someone is either spying on the Italians or creating some kind of a horrifying bluff." Germany, looking disinterested took the papers.

"Just what kind of bluff could Italy"- He cut off his words and sat the edge of his seat, absorbing every word of paper and finally set it down on the table after reading it. He didn't slam it down on the table. He just let it… float onto there. He desperately looked at his General. "You are sure this is some kind of a joke, right?" He was shaking. "RIGHT?"

The general looked down and held the papers.

"I wish I was kidding, Boss." Germany remained silent for a few seconds.

"Bring me Brock," he said lowly.

"What was that, sir?"

"Bring me General Brock!" he commanded. The general eagerly obeyed his orders and ran out of the room. In no time, General Brock had arrived looking not only somber, but prepared with papers of his own along with a cell phone.

"You…wanted to speak with me, Boss?" he asked almost a little too innocently.

….

Nobody had decided to stop the enraged Italian from busting into the white room that was the laboratory-a base dedicated to science of all kinds-including technological warfare.

All the scientists stared at him blankly and had stopped everything as if time had frozen them over. Italy began to calm down a little.

"Where is it?" he asked, "I want it deactivated!" None of the scientists spoke up. Italy cleared his throat. "I am your boss-your chief and this has been done without my consent! This needs to be gone!"

Finally, a brave scientist stepped up to the plate and spoke.

"But we must go with this plan. You never know"-

"It's not that answer! I refuse!" Italy cried.

"We don't have to go through with it! We just have this in development in case the war becomes…too much."

"And I still won't do it! I could never bomb Germany! Never!" The scientist drew near him.

"Boss, we're in a war-and this time we're taking it seriously. Besides, this is a war between you and Germany! He's the enemy now." Italy relaxed his posture. "He has slaughtered our soldiers-OUR SOLDIERS! And he's never respected us. Do you really think Germany is your friend now?"

"That's why I'm fighting this war! To prove it!" said Italy, "I'll love Germany no matter what. I know he's hurt me and he doesn't think we're friends anymore, so to make him stay with me…"

"Then if that's what you want, you may have to use more than gun play." He then proceeded to show Italy the bomb in all its glory. "Welcome to war, Italy. It's about who can be the most aggressive." Italy looked back at his generals waiting at the entrance.

"Send a warning to Germany as well as an invitation to meet with me at Rome…if he wishes to discuss this."

…

The first thing Germany did when he got to the military base was make a call to Prussia. He had enough. Obviously Italy had perhaps learned a little bit too much from the disintegrated nation.

"Just what have you taught Italy?" Germany asked his brother on his line, "Do you know what he has done to me?"

_"Relax, West!"_ Prussia laughed on the other line, "_You're just getting your ass kicked by Italy. Face the music. 'Serves you right, too!"_

"You don't understand! He's threatened to bomb me!" Prussia went silent, obviously indicating more than just shock. "We're meeting tomorrow at Rome, so maybe we can settle this, but"-

_ "I'm going to wait for him to get home. I need to talk to him out of this."_

"Prussia"-

_ "I'm awesome enough to teach Italy how to use weapons and stuff, but bombing? That's serious trouble. Bombing is not awesome unless it's being done by me."_

"Prussia, I can do this! Currently we're"-

_ "He's getting way too carried away now! Don't you get it? He's turning into you!" _Neither Germany or Prussia talked for a few minutes. _"Listen, I gotta go. He's here, so…bye." _And then Prussia hung up the phone, leaving his younger brother hanging.

**A/N:**** FINALLY I BREAK OUT OF WRITER'S BLOCK. Oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy. Finally, I'm gonna start updating this more often. For once, I have something to do/complete over the summer~ Thank you kind viewers for your support and sorry this one took a while as well.**


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